The Mentalist Episode Tag: The Red Mile, 3x18
by Donnamour1969
Summary: Does Jane trust Lisbon enough to tell her what happened with Steiner?  My take on what might have happened post episode. Spoilers, 3x18.  No copyright infringement intended.


A/N: Wow! I didn't see that ending coming! And I almost felt like Steiner might spout out a William Blake quote, didn't you? Anyway, here's a little tag of what I think might have happened post-episode.

**Episode Tag: The Red Mile, 3x18**

"Lisbon."

Teresa Lisbon had heard Patrick Jane say her name through the phone on countless occasions, but she knew this time was different. His tone was different. He didn't say her name as a question, or as a friendly greeting. Something was terribly wrong, and she knew it just by the way he said her name.

She set down her pen, abandoning her paperwork.

"What is it, Jane?" she asked, with matching gravity.

"It's Dr. Steiner. I suppose you should call the coroner, but you see, there's something horribly ironic about that."

"He's dead? How?" she asked in surprise.

There was only a brief hesitation, and with anyone else, Lisbon would have attributed it to the other person gathering their thoughts, or being taken off guard by the question. With Jane, it likely meant his quick mind was formulating a lie.

"He told me yesterday he was dying, maybe had a month at most," Jane said simply.

She sighed, her hand going to her forehead. That wasn't exactly an answer, but Lisbon knew she wasn't going to get more from the consultant over the phone.

"Where are you?"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_Four days later…_

The graveside service for Dr. George Steiner was quiet, simple, and sparsely attended. Jane and Lisbon represented the CBI, gathering with various department heads of the Sacramento PD, and Steiner's coworkers at the Coroner's Office. Jane didn't see anyone crying for the man, so he assumed no loved ones were in attendance. Everyone there just seemed solemn and…obligated.

At the doctor's home a few days before, he'd noted a few personal photographs, but most were from times long past: Steiner's parents, grandparents, and one lovely young woman in a white dress. She'd vaguely resembled Lisbon. But he didn't see that woman there today.

The minister finished his requisite sermon about eternal salvation, and the small gathering began to disperse, a few stopping to chat beneath a nearby tree, some even shaking hands with the minister before leaving and going on with their lives.

"Well, that was very nice," Lisbon said, as she walked with Jane to his car. She'd sensed his depression about the older man's passing, and allowed him to drive. "He was what people always mean when describing a _mild-mannered man."_

Jane smiled a little at her characterization. "I once called him a horse's ass," he reminded her. "I think that was closer to the truth. But I might have misjudged him a little."

Lisbon stopped near the light blue Citroen, shooting him a look of surprise. "Since when do you misjudge anyone?"

"He showed incredible courage, there at the end." He looked off into the distance, his face somber. "I admired that."

Lisbon hadn't asked him any details about Steiner's last moments. Jane hadn't been forthcoming, and when it was discovered that Steiner had in fact been in the final stage of pancreatic cancer, no one questioned the manner in which he'd died. No autopsy had been ordered since there had been no signs of foul play, and Jane, a CBI employee, had been a witness. Jane had said they were drinking tea, and he was there one minute, then he was gone.

"Jane," she began, "What didn't you tell me, about Steiner's death?"

His eyes focused on hers again, and he remained silent, considering her question.

"I want to tell you Lisbon, but as a friend, not as CBI colleague. Can I do that? Can I trust you not to go ballistic here?"

She was momentarily offended, but, then again, this was Jane. Whatever he had chosen to keep from her had to be because he knew she wouldn't like it. It might have even been illegal, or at the very least morally questionable.

She reached down and touched his hand, which had frozen on the passenger side door handle in preparation of opening it for her. He glanced down at the unfamiliar touch, then back up into her green eyes, clear and soft in the dappled sunlight. He ignored the brief jolt he felt, like he always did.

"You can tell me anything. We _are_ friends, aren't we?" she said finally, encouragingly.

He nodded. "Steiner asked me to be there when he died. He had some pills…"

"Jane," she said, watching the brief flash of pain on his face, hearing the way his voice broke a little as he spoke. She squeezed his hand. "He asked you to help him kill himself?"

He let go of the handle and laced his fingers with hers, but casually, because he really didn't want her to let go.

"Not exactly. He just wanted me to be there. I don't think he wanted to be alone, despite his excuse that he didn't want to be on the other end of an autopsy. I didn't even see him take anything. I was in the kitchen, making tea. When I joined him in his living room, we talked a few minutes, then he was gone."

She could have mentioned that assisted suicide was illegal in the state of California, that by not attempting to help Steiner by calling for assistance, he had broken a few other laws too. She could have told him how she thought suicide was cowardly, not brave. But she remained silent, basking in the all too rare experience of hearing Jane confess to something he'd done. He raised an eyebrow at her calm reaction.

"You're not gonna cuff me now?" he asked, his smile briefly returning. She smiled back, and she let go of his hand in order to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. Jane felt bereft at the sudden loss of her warmth.

"I don't agree with what he did, but I understand it. I understand _you_, Jane. You believed you were helping him avoid a painful death. You didn't want him to suffer. Your motives were pure. And the man's at peace now; I don't intend to disturb him."

"Thank you Lisbon," he said softly. He opened the car door and closed it again once she'd sat inside. He joined her inside but didn't start the vehicle.

There was more he could have told her. How he envied Steiner; the man was no longer in pain. How many times had he himself wanted to end his own pain, especially right after his family had been murdered? That was partly why he'd been in the mental institution, after all. Seeing how quickly, how quietly Steiner left this world, the thought had crept into his mind once more. _A few minutes, and it could all be over. The pains of this world would be left behind. For the first time in eight years, I could be at peace._

But he couldn't tell Lisbon any of these things. She wouldn't understand. Well, maybe she would, but she would try to comfort him and tell him he had so much to live for. Telling her that he only lived for revenge wouldn't exactly be what she wanted to hear.

Instead, he looked across at her, trying to compose his face into the careless grin he'd perfected over the years. He'd found at an early age that if he flashed his pearly whites and made his smile reach his eyes, people tended to overlook the telltale signs that he was a deeply damaged human being.

"Dr. Steiner sure had a thing for you, though, Lisbon," he said, trying to lighten the somber mood. "He would get all flustered when he was around you or had to approach you. It was very sweet, actually."

"What? No way. That's just—no way." She felt a little weird, thinking of that nice old man that way.

He chuckled. "Really. It's true. He told me you reminded him of someone, and I could tell it was someone he'd had deep feelings for. You really are oblivious to things like that, aren't you?"

"I am not," she said petulantly.

For once, he was the eye roller in the car. "Are too," he replied childishly.

Before she could respond again, Jane started up the engine and pulled out onto the cemetery road, his eyes drawn again to the canopy near the gravesite. A woman with long, dark hair, gray at the temples, was standing over Steiner's grave. She hadn't been at the funeral. Jane's foot hit the brake and he stopped the car, squinting at the profile of the older woman. He smiled softly as she threw a rose on the casket, wiping her eyes with a frilly handkerchief.

He would bet a million bucks that was the woman in the picture he'd seen in Steiner's living room. _She came for you, George._

"What is it?" asked Lisbon.

"You in twenty-five years," he said, nodding toward the lone mourner.

"Huh?"

"Never mind. Let's get back to work. All this death stuff is depressing."

They drove through the quiet cemetery until Jane turned onto a busy city street, heading toward CBI Headquarters.

Lisbon's slightly husky voice broke the silence, and her hand was warm on his arm. "Thank you for telling me. About Steiner, I mean."

He shrugged. "That's what friends do, Lisbon."

When he smiled at her this time, it was completely genuine.

A/N: Gee, I was all set to write some really lighthearted tag to this, but the touching ending of this episode just didn't allow for it. Next week looks promising though…In the meantime, I hope you enjoyed this enough to post a review. Thanks for reading!


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